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Frome Selfie to a Prayer

Recalling a Special Moment with Pope Francis

Some years ago, in fact, it was the fall of 2015, I found myself scrambling to get a religious visa in order to travel to Cuba. It was an extraordinary intersection of a number of meaningful moments in my life. First, it marked my return to the country of my birth, almost a week to the day, 50 years prior, that I left Cuba with my mother. I was preparing for the launch of my first book, and my uncle, who is a bishop in Cuba, invited the family to join him as he received Pope Francis on his apostolic visit to the island. The Pope was on his way to the World Meeting of Families in the U.S., which I was planning to attend, but I changed my plans to jump on this opportunity for what turned out to be a transformative pilgrimage and reconnection to my family still in Cuba.

I’ve written about the experience in several places, but I want to share with you something I rarely talk about: gazing into Pope Francis’ eyes.

Pope Francis landed in Havana and made his way across the country to the diocese of Holguin, where the devotion to Our Lady of Charity started with the discovery of a miraculous statue of the Blessed Mother, and then was ending his trip in Santiago de Cuba, at the National Basilica of Our Lady of Charity of El Cobre for a Mass and his departure for the United States.

In Holguin, he celebrated a huge public Massm and then met with my uncle, the Bishop, and other priests for lunch and rest before the next leg of his journey. I joined my aunts, uncles, and my mother in the sitting room off the chancery dining room for an opportunity to have an private meeting with Pope Francis. It was a beautiful moment for my uncle, who served with the Pope on regional committees when he was Archbishop. It was a moment of intimate sharing between friends, shepherds and flock, and of course, Pope and Bishop.

It was both formal, with many introductions and protocol, and intimate and familial. At one point, at the urging of my children, I was emboldened to ask Pope Francis if he would allow me to take a selfie. That is perhaps one of the most transformative moments in my life as a Catholic. I had intended to kiss his ring, in awe of the Apostolic Succession and the rich symbolism of the Fisherman’s Ring. Instead, I boldly asked for a picture. He was holding my hand warmly in both of his as we spoke about my husband and children, and my career as teacher and newly minted author.

The tenderness with which he held my gaze was supernatural. I knew he was the Pope, but in that moment, as I asked for the selfie, it was as if I was looking into the eyes of my heavenly Father, lovingly indulging a silly request. It passed quickly. He said yes. I snapped not one, but two because the flash blinded us, and suddenly the press corps descended into the room when they heard the head of protocol call out “No selfies!”

Too late! I got the picture. His body guard took my phone from me and I was sure it was confiscated to delete the photo, but instead, he took pictures of our meeting for me. And I made the L’Osservatore Romano! My mom has the picture they snapped of our selfie!

So now, as we pray for Pope Francis, I don’t want to eulogize him in anticipation of what will be some day, but rather, share a lovely memory of his kindness and gentleness. May the Divine Physician grant him strength and healing, and may the Blessed Mother ease his discomfort, wrapping him in her tender care.

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Review: NO ADDRESS

Some movies entertain, some educate, and then there are films that stay on your heart long after the credits roll. No Address has had that effect on me. It’s a hard look at homelessness in America told through the deeply human stories of people who find themselves on the streets. The mosaic of characters represents just a few of the different reasons people might find themselves living on the streets, but they all share the same fears in their struggle for survival.

To be honest, this wasn’t an easy film to watch. It’s raw, emotional, and at times, uncomfortable. Perhaps that’s the point. We live in a world where homelessness is often reduced to a passing glance, a forgettable meme, a problem for someone else to fix.

The truth is, many people are just one crisis away from losing everything. The film does a beautiful job of weaving together their stories, showing not just the hardship, but the hope, resilience, and quiet dignity of those living without a fixed address (a nod to the title).

No Address tackles some of the assumptions we make about the homeless. While certainly there are people suffering from profound mental health issues or debilitating addictions, there are many reasons that intersect for persons to become homeless. My eyes were opened to the stark reality that homelessness is not a matter of character or inclination but often, circumstances.

While No Address isn’t explicitly religious, its themes of compassion, dignity, and the call to see Christ in our neighbors are undeniable.

Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me. (Matthew 25:40)

No Address is a powerful film that will move you, maybe even change how you see the issue. Perhaps it is an invitation to look beyond the memes and stereotypes and engage in a way that is meaningful. That can be as complex as volunteering or advocacy or as simple and loving as acknowledging the human dignity of every person you encounter.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Robert Craig Films

In theaters February 28, 2025

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A Crystal Moment Reflection

I recently had the honor of leading a writing activity for fellow writers at a retreat. The activity, My Crystal Moment, was a timeline exercise that examined key points or experiences in our lives that intersected with our faith journey. And then, because we are writers, we wrote a brief reaction to those intersections.

It was meaningful to me because as an immigrant, and daughter and granddaughter of immigrants, the national conversation on this topic is close to my heart. That it coincided with the release of my book, A Beautiful Second Act, in which I examine and call upon Saints who have had to shift or pivot into second acts, new adventures, and change, was not lost on me or my examination. I humbly present to you the unedited raw response from the activity. It may be the basis of something longer in the future, but sometimes, it is the first reaction to discovery that is the best.

The story of my life is exile. I came into this world without my father. My mother was surrounded by her parents and siblings, and no other family. She was born to parents in exile from the Spanish Civil war. She never knew her grandparents or her aunts and uncles.

My mother had her parents and brothers and sisters, but not her husband.

And I didn’t have my father.

Despite that, I did not experience abandonment. I was not fatherless; I just didn’t have my father with me at the time. What I did have, and still have, is a sense of waiting. Waiting for the day we would be united.

In order to be with my father, though, I would have to leave everything else that I loved behind. Each gain in my life has come with loss. Having three beautiful children came with a loss of two in the womb. Every career move for my husband came with a loss of opportunity in mine. Every move to a new city came with loss of friends and family.

I am in a perpetual state of exile, and even as the tears burned hot in my eyes at this surprising revelation, I see that we are all exiles.

From the moment Adam and Eve were expelled from the garden, all the generations and generations before us have been in exile, waiting for the day when we return to our true home in Paradise when we are reunited with our Father in heaven. As I look at this, I see that regardless where I have been in my nomadic life, God my father has been present through it all. 

The one virtue I have had, always, from the moment I was born, is hope. I see that it is hope, hope in Jesus Christ, hope in his mercy, that will see me home to my heavenly Father. I’m grateful for the Holy Spirit who in his love gave me a glimpse into this Truth.

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